


Lucky For Some

by TheArtOfBlossoming



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 76
Genre: Based on Gameplay, Gen, Responders, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-08-24 11:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtOfBlossoming/pseuds/TheArtOfBlossoming
Summary: Reclamation Day has come to Vault 76! Enid Halverson has spent her whole life training to go outside. She's ready to reclaim Appalachia, with the help of a few friends.7+6=13...well, you know what they say: 'It's lucky for some.'





	1. Out of the Nest

'Rec day. Starting Reclamation Day feeling wrecked. Shouldn't have drunk so much Nuka 'n' whiskey yesterday. It's all the doc's fault. He was the one who introduced it to me when I was still really too young to handle the stuff. Glass of water'll sort me out. No biggie. Come on, to the kitchenette. Get your ass out of bed, Enid.'

The tap sputtered a few droplets and hissed vapour, noisily. Enid frowned briefly and grabbed her last Nuka Cherry out of the fridge instead.

The Vault's announcement system was telling her to go, in the nicest possible way but with that steely firmness behind it that could never disguise orders as a gentle request, for all the carefully chosen words and maternal tone it had. This was it. The day they all got kicked out of the nest. When she reached the Overseer's office, the message was laid bare. 'Out….and don't come back.'

Perhaps supplies had really dried up, water and power alike. Not that Enid was keen to stay inside; quite the opposite. She had been counting down to this day ever since she first entered, as a small child clinging to her father, her panicked cries silenced as they stole the sun from her with the 'big rolley wheel'. A stone rolled in front of the cave entrance.

Ironically, as Dr. Erik Halversen had liked to point out in his soft Norwegian drawl, that was essentially the meaning of their name. Flat stone. A big, flat, immoveable door of solid earth-stuff. It had made her feel trapped, something to push hard against at every opportunity.

Enid wasn't a Vault baby. She was already a little girl when the first Veebee popped out into that unnatural world. She had never quite fitted in. Too young or too old, not an intellectual like her father but with a bubbliness, optimism and compassion that came from her mother, a nurse. Her father had insisted on giving their child a middle name, the same as his dear wife: "Amantha". Despite being a medical research scientist, Erik Halversen loved Etymology and so the young Enid Amantha knew early on that her names meant 'Life, Unfading'. Quite apt for one protected underground whilst the world burned above and Virginia wasted away.

Enid would never know it but her mother witnessed the end from the outside. Mrs. Halversen had not quite met the strict entry conditions for Vault 76. Whilst Dr. Halversen was courted by Vault-Tec for his genius, his wife was deemed 'unsuitable'. They tried to bargain with Vault-Tec and only partially succeeded. Their baby daughter was accepted on the premise of her potential but they would not budge. Amantha had kept secrets from her family: the death-threats and worse, forcing her hand. One day she simply disappeared, leaving behind a few hastily scrawled words. ' I love you. Forgive me. Live!' No wonder that a heart-attack finally took Dr. Erik Halversen just a year before Reclamation Day. He always knew he'd never see her again.

All this lay in the foggy past for Enid though as she excitedly visited each dear old Mr. Handy and received her parting gifts. She remembered the sun and clouds - oh how she'd loved clouds - though her earliest memories hid things from her such as the moon, the smell of fresh air and the sound of rivers.

The door opened.

Light! So much light! Then the air hit her, slightly metallic, strange floral scents, rot and decay. Oh but the breeze. The sky! No ceiling contained her now, no walls, the floor here paved but rocky further on and… green! There was still green in the world after all!

She breathed deep as she stepped out of the door, hooking heŕ thumbs into the straps of her pack, basking in the sunshine and…

"Morning, Enid."

She jumped but almost immediately relaxed as the familiar form of Dr. Kardrath sauntered over. The fiftysomething intellectual smiled and opened his pack. 

"Here. You'll need these."

"Don't you?" queried Enid as she gratefully took the basic pipe pistol and bullets.

"Ehh, I've got enough. I scouted around a bit whilst I was waiting for you. Let's head over there."

Dr. C. Kardrath, specialist in several technical fields, was a laid back sort of character who had just the right amount of practicality and curiosity to tackle this changed world head on. As they walked together, he laid out what he knew so far, in addition to the years of training they had both had had in preparation for this moment.

Kardrath and Halversen had been good friends and when Erik died, Kardrath took Enid under his wing. They made a good team, though both being independent spirits would find themselves often splitting up then meeting back at the C.A.M.P.s of one or the other. 'The Doc' ( a bit of an in-joke as there had been so many Docs in the Vault as to make the nickname impersonal) had already built a small hut. 

"You must have been first outta the door!" exclaimed Enid.

"Not at all. I was waiting for you to regain consciousness."

"I wasn't even the last out!"

"No, well."

Enid knew well that he was a man of few words so their companionship was mostly a quiet one, just as well for they soon came face to face with the unfriendly inhabitants of waste Virginia.


	2. Logging On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insert Holotape to begin...

HOLOTAPE 1: PERSONAL REPORT - Halverson, E.

"This is Enid A. Halverson of..I mean…formerly of Vault 76.   
Skillset: in development. Vault-Tec Basic Diploma grade B+, Essential Survival Module: Pass with Modest Recognition, Weapons License: Firearms - Acceptable, Melee - Good. Overall end of course S.P.E.C.I.A.L.S. - Pass.

Well, maybe not what the Overseer was hoping for, me being the daughter of the brilliant Dr. Erik Halverson. An only slightly above average student. Well, they can't measure everything! You can't learn all you need to know cooped up in a fancy underground hole, either. I'll show the Overseer what I'm really made of!

Oh, it's so beautiful out here! Y'know, despite the wreckage…and the weird wildlife. Oh, and those poor wretches that are staggering around. Ugh. Make me shiver.

Anyhoo…um..I mean, anyway, despite hostile fauna, searching has revealed that resources abound if you're willing to work for them. Air is breatheable without immediate ill-effect but water must be boiled before drinking. Likewise, unless pre-war and packaged, all food must be cooked before consumption. Eaten pretty quick, too. No frigidaires in the great outdoors! Or most of what's left of the not-so-great indoors, either. *cough*

I've taken up a worthy cause, following in the footsteps of what used to be the emergency services, people who amazingly kept it going outside the Vault for years! They must have been such brave and resourceful folk. Looks like Fire, Police and Ambulance became just one body, calling themselves Responders. I've found further education materials and am training myself up to join. Not that I've met any live ones yet. They left a few 'bots behind, though.

Dr. Kardrath is crossing paths with me from time to time, helping me out with supplies. We have a good team rhythm going. I haven't found my best friends out here yet. They must have struck out in opposite directions. I wouldn't put it past a *certain* person to have slept in longer than I did…they'll catch up.

Right, so… I set up C.A.M.P. Northeast of the Vault, in a beautiful forest! I keep tripping over logs but that's all good. Gather all the wood you can, you'll need it. Why couldn't they have sent us out here with a book of plans, though? I mean, sure, I know how to build some basic stuff but a bed iff the floor that doesn't keep falling apart would be nice. Well, puffy yellow sleeping bag, you'll have to do for now.

Ok, um…oh yeah.

Summary: C.A.M.P. established, basic needs met, defenses erected but need improvement. I'll continue to study the Responder Training Course (take time to read all active terminals!) and focus on becoming a First-Aider. Ballistic skill needs improvement and is necessary to maintain safety but axes and machetes are very effective against those, well, what *used* to be people. Right now though, I gotta go loggin' with my axe, so I'd best log out,*hehe*. So….

This is Enid, wishing you safe journeys, signing off."


	3. Reality Hits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The horrors of the Wasteland begin to reveal themselves.

Enid tugged the dented lid off the ammo box and rummaged through the meagre contents. A couple of flares, ammo for a weapon she didn't own and a few useful rounds for her pipe pistol. Not bad. Her stomache growled but she ignored it for now, thinking back to her childhood training: 

"Tummy rumbles, don't you grumble. Wait an hour, ruins to scour. Tummy empty, eat a plenty. Feeling faint? You left it late!"

Just outside, she scanned around for packeted food but instead spied a stringed instrument. It had been quiet for over an hour so with a quick glance round to make sure she was alone, she sat down and picked it up. The variety of instruments available in the Vault had been rather limited but music was an essential part of the young vault dwellers' education, as it was believed to increase intelligence. Enid never got on well with reading music but she could pick up almost any tune she heard and play it well on string or woodwind. She preferred guitar to banjo but the music refreshed her.

She met up briefly again with Dr. Kardrath, helping him with a pack of wild mongrels and a few molerats. Not the small, vulnerable looking kind she'd seen in her Natural History of America books but huge, muscled beasts with viscious teeth. They burrowed through soil as if swimming through water, bursting up in clouds of dirt right next to you.

"Mental checklist: mongrels and molerats hunt in packs. If the latter, stand on the rocks," she reminded herself, adding it to her mental filing drawer labelled 'Survival Nuggets'.

They were nothing compared to the horrors to come, however. Bodies of Responders and refugees, not long dead; strange, blackened figures stood or crouched, only to shatter into a radioactive dustcloud like mushrooms ejecting spores. The worst were the ones who could still speak through their madness…and could still use any weapons in their hands. 

The Scorched. They lurked everwhere, instantly hostile. They also seemed to be cannibals. Enid managed to fight off a few small groups. Her wild shots brought mediocre success but her trusty axe hit true almost every time. As much as she knew close combat to be dangerous, it offered her the best protection when they got too close.

Then the siren went off. 

Enid looked up from her defeated foes to see a dark shape moving in the sky. A large, swift shape, wings flapping, head searching. 

"Hide. Now!" she commanded herself. Nearby an orange container shelter beckoned. The beast turned and headed her way. She ran, jumped through the wide doorway and was about to dive into the corner when she realised the makeshift room was already occupied.

The burnt, fragile corpse was blocking her way. She knew that moving near it would cause it to puff irradiated ash at her but the beast would see her any second. She jumped on the bunk next to the figure, trying to avoid it but the tick-tick-tick of her Pip-boy's geiger counter echoed the thump-thump-thump of her heart as she moved out of sight just in the nick of time.

This was so much worse than she'd imagined. In her dreams, her fellow Vault-Dwellers were only reclaiming their land from the garbage and pollution caused by the bombs. She hadn't ever imagined that the nukes would disfigure nature so much, nor that any humans outside the vault would survive. Enid shivered at the sorry ghoul-like remains of human beings, the charred and maddened brutes that had been Scorched, even the dogs whose pups had been born mostly hairless, devolved feral mongrels.

She waited. Eventually, the flying monster left and she fled to her C.A.M.P. nearby. Overly hungry and thirsty now, Enid drank water from the pump without thinking.

"Oh shoot. Stupid, Enid, stupid," she reprimanded herself a short while later. "Ok, aches, loose, bloody movements, nausea… Dysentry! That's what this is." She weakly rummaged in her pack and at the bottom found two scavenged phials marked 'Disease Cure'. She used one, then wrapped the other carefully and put it away.

When Doc Kardrath saw her again he admonished her gently, with a look of concern in his eyes. "Here, I've got a couple of Stimpaks you can have." He set some water boiling and they tucked into the cleanest rations they had. 

"Mmm. I could live on Sugarbombs!"

The Doc just shook his head and grinned.

* * *

Enid's wanderings took her north. She found a large old place with a few Scorched (soon dispatched) and filled her stash with raw materials. Not much farther away, a low, growly voice that spoke English like a caveman revealed itself to be a rather large threat. A large *green* threat. 

This was the first time she'd ever encountered these hulking humanoids. The one that fell furthest from its group gave her a few moments to soak it all in: the rotten meat stench, the huge, muscular frame, the grotesque parody of humanity. It had some useful ammo on it but she recoiled at the touch of the oily green skin. "Don't be picky," she reminded herself. Then: "Run!"

Light and agile as she was, Enid managed to lose them quickly. However, when she arrived at her C.A.M.P. she found it in the centre of a fight between a Vertibot and some Infiltrators, annoying little jump-buckets. When all had finally been reduced to scrap, she packed up and looked for another, safer site, somewhere along the Overseer's trail. All the while, she kept an eye out for fellow '76ers. 

She hadn't known too many very well (it was a big Vault!) but most she had got along well with. Her closest friends, aside from Kardrath, had yet to cross her path and she started to worry. That wasn't an emotional luxury she could afford, however, so she set up her 'hut sweet hut' in another spot, sharpened her axe, fixed the dodgy trigger on her best shotgun and headed out again to face the future square-on.


	4. Better With Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enid meets a dear friend and together, they keep each other alive.

The first sounds that she became aware of as sleep transitioned into wakefulness were birdsong and wind rustling leaves. Enid smiled, eyes still closed, filled her lungs with living air (rather than the sterile, recycled, processed atmosphere of the Vault) and stretched.

The next sounds made her eyes flick open in alarm; distant gunfire and the whir of turrets at the ready. The turrets continued their readiness song instead of jumping into the cacophony of battle, so she relaxed.

It had only been a few days but already this near-solitary existence was doing her good. In the Vault, you only had your domicile to yourself if you had no family. Enid had spent her last year in 76 on her own, after the passing of her father but had been used to being in company almost always. It was often too much.

As a child, she'd frequently find the least trodden passages, areas where only the Mr. Handys had drifted by. After a while of self-imposed solitary confinement, she'd be able to face the crowds again, deal with the multiple small sounds echoing off the metal Vault walls, ceilings, floors.…until the need to withdraw into their home once more.

On the other hand, too much alone-time always led to loneliness. Enid needed people, just in small doses. She loved to help people feel good and despite her academic shortcomings (in relation to the tribe of geniuses she lived with, that is) she was good at raising morale. The Overseer had often told her that she brought the sunshine into the Vault. 

"Auntie-O", that's what little Enid had called her. Everyone else called her 'Overseer', almost never using her name to the extent that the adult Enid had forgotten if she ever knew it. Next time she saw her again, that's the second thing she'd ask, she decided. The first, of course, would be "How are you doing, need anything?"

Thoughts of that kind, strong lady turned to concern as Enid rose. Charleston was the next place to look, according to the Overseer's trail. She checked her supplies as breakfast bubbled in the pot, mended a hole in her armour and sharpened her Multipurpose Axe. Time to go.

* * * 

The road was fairly quiet. Enid's pack was a little heavier for the addition of some Molerat meat, extra ammo and a couple of pipe pistols for scrapping but all in all it had been an easy journey so far.

Up ahead, a figure came into view. She crouched low and moved up stealthily for a better view. The way that the figure moved told her that it was neither Scorched nor Ghoul and so she stood up and walked. A familiar voice floated toward her, making her break into a run.

The figure, a woman, turned and smiled as Enid tackled her with a hug. "Charity! How are you?"

Charity was about four or five years older than Enid. Her family had lived on the same floor, just a couple of doors away from the Halversen's quarters. At 16, Charity had become a fully-fledged Robotics Maintenance Technician. She'd always been something of a prodigy; when they were young, Charity loved to make little moving toys out of odds and ends. The materials had often been acquired by Enid, who used her charm on the adults at the Commisary and 'ReUse Not Refuse' Stations. 

Enid saw her as a big sister as they grew up. Everyone was family to her in 76, some much closer than others but Charity was often at work in the very quiet corners of the Vault that Enid liked to retreat to. She'd bring her friend snacks and make sure she was looking after herself, even as Charity was elbow-deep in oil and Mr. Handy parts. 

It was so good to see her again and as they were headed in the same direction, they both decided that the trip would be better with friends.

* * *  
Charlestown was a wreck. Enid had imagined the damage outside the Vault to be either a wiping away of all life, leaving empty but intact architecture, or a rubble-strewn landscape overtaken by alien-looking creepers. She hadn't expected this vista of still beautiful forests and mountain paths leading to a mutilated but still recogniseable city. She was glad to have Charity by her side as they arrived.

The place was a maze. Responders had obviously tried to establish themselves here. Arrows pointed out a path that made little sense at the time. An old terminal gave up its secrets when faced with Charity's typing skills, something that Enid couldn't quite get her head around.

Eventually, it became clear that the Responders had been onto something and that the Overseer had passed this way. They followed the trail, hunted down the components of a medical procedure and ultimately benefitted from their work. It had not been without great risk, though.

Supermutants took them by surprise, as did the creature that accompanied - or perhaps hunted - them. It was, Enid thought, as if someone had made a cat out of bubblegum, stretched beyond anatomical sense, with far too many teeth, no ears and an excess of eyeballs. It was fast; fast and hungry and utterly unnatural. The Supermutants eventually went down first but the…"what did they call it?" Enid wondered. "Lollygagger? Snarlygasper?"…was tenacious. The two young women were low on Stimpaks and exhausted by the time they finished the beast off. They set a Photobot to snap a victory picture, feeling relieved and very pleased with themselves.

The Firestation was close by, a refuge in this torn place. A Responder Protectron held a trading post and the two found more resources than they could carry. One weight Enid didn't mind carrying, however, was her shiny new fireaxe. It was perfectly balanced, the shaft an ideal length for her broad-shouldered swing. She sharpened it, oiled the wooden handle and soon had a chance to try it out against Scorched. It was brutal; slow to swing but hit with a devastating force. It would keep her safe.

Charity, on the other hand, was hoping to find a set of T-45 Power Armour, preferably complete. She still had a way to go to become proficient in powered armour tech but she had the basics down. "Anyone can jump into a frame," she'd told Enid, "but it takes skill to pilot a suit." Enid would rather take a stealthy approach.

The two swapped supplies and renewed their energy until the time came to part ways for a while. Wishing each other safe travels, they hugged tightly and then sprang apart, each turning quickly before the other caught the less-than-confident look in their eyes. They both knew that to find their Overseer as fast as possible, they could cover more ground separately. It wouldn't be forever, Enid knew. Sooner or later she'd cross paths with a friendly face again. Maybe Doctor Kardrath, maybe Silver the Vault handyman, maybe someone from the deeper residential levels she'd never learned the names of. 

Sooner or later these tough country roads were going to make life better, with friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Squints for joining me on this adventure - despite our different timezones - and allowing me to include Charity in this fic!  
> Fanfic is better with friends ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for reading! This is an exciting experience for me, to be here at the very beginning of a Fallout game. I played two of the Beta sessions and Enid is the very same character I used for those - I liked her so much!
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on roleplaying this online multiplayer endeavour...and on the story :) I'm playing on PS4 under the gamertag Sa111ybean, so if you see me there, give Enid a wave!


End file.
